


Healing Powers

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, it's not a post-ep as I have written too many of those but, it's sort of a post-ep, mulder has hurt himself, season 7, set after millennium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder asks to be kissed so he heals faster.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 13
Kudos: 92





	Healing Powers

There’s this look on Mulder’s face she knows all too well. A droopy grin and half-lidded eyes watch Scully’s every move as she reads his chart one last time before they check out of the hospital. They gave him the good stuff, of course. As difficult as Mulder can be as a patient, he can also be extremely charming. It didn’t take much today; Mulder, as the hero of the hour who threw himself in front of a car to push a child out of the way, didn’t even have to pout or ask nicely.

Scully pockets the rest of the painkillers and Mulder blinks slowly. There’s a sigh locked in her throat. His shoulder has barely healed since their New Year’s Eve escapades (“Zombies, Scully, we fought zombies,” he likes to remind her, awe in his voice, and a smile on his face), and now they’re here again. She wonders if it would have been better had he hurt the same shoulder again, but Mulder, subconsciously or not, is working on breaking every bone in his body.

At least he’s getting the good drugs.

“Let’s go home, hm?” She asks softly, touching his hand. He smiles at her instead of answering. She half carries, half drags him to the car where she buckles him in.

“Where we going?” He asks.

“Home,” she repeats. She’s taking him to her apartment this time. Last time she took him to his own place, only to receive calls from him every couple of hours, asking for help. This will be easier for both of them. And her bed is more comfortable, too.

“Scully, I think the painkillers are wearing off,” Mulder mumbles when they arrive at her building.

“Are you in pain?” She asks, helping him out of the car and up the stairs.

He nods. “I can feel my nose,” he explains. “Is that normal? Scully, do you feel your nose?”

“You can have another dose of med before bed, Mulder.”

“Your nose, Scully,” he says, touching his finger to her nose, booping it softly. “You have a cute nose. Do you feel it?”

“Yes, Mulder, I do,” she replies, trying not to smile and encourage him.

“Huh.” He touches his own nose, pinches it. “It hurts.”

“You probably hurt it, too,” she says, gently coaxing him towards her bedroom. 

“That kid is okay, right?” He asks once he sits on her bed, hands folded in his lap, waiting. His expression is serious; the drugs in his system must really be wearing off.

“Yes, the kid is all right,” she promises, helping him out of his clothes, glad for the distraction. “You saved the girl’s life.” Scully doesn’t want to relive the moment, but the scene replays in her mind as if it were a movie. She and Mulder had been on their way to lunch when it happened. Two girls, around five or six, had been playing, pushing each other around playfully. Until one girl stumbled backwards and right into the street. Someone screamed, and Mulder ran. He picked up the girl, flung her back onto the sidewalk, and was hit by a car himself a second later.

She glances at him, pets his hair as if he were a cat. When are his nine lives up? She can’t help but wonder, giving him a small, shaky smile, full of what ifs. What if it had been worse? If the car had been faster? Mulder, as so often, has been lucky. Incredibly lucky. He’ll have bruises all over his body and his shoulder will remain in a sling for a week or two. No broken bones, no head trauma, and not even a cracked rib.

“You look like I’m about to die, Scully.”

“You could have.”

He shrugs. “Better me than the kid, huh? How long will I be out of the game, Scully?”

“You heard what the doctor said.”

“You’re my doctor.”

“I concur with what the doctor at the hospital said, Mulder.”

He sighs dramatically. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Your body needs time to heal. I’ll get you your meds and a glass of water. Do you need anything else?”

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm, what?”

“You know what I think might make me heal faster?” He leans forward, a solid wall of warmth bursting into her personal space.

“Sleep and rest,” she says, her eyes firmly on his.

Mulder shakes his head, slowly. “I was thinking… a kiss.”

“A… kiss,” she parrots, taken aback by the mere suggestion.

“It worked last time, didn’t it?” He winks at her.

“There’s no correlation, Mulder. That was a coincidence.”

It’s true. They kissed at midnight on New Year’s Eve, and then again a few hours later, and another few hours after that, and Mulder was as good as new a week later. A mere coincidence, nothing else. Her cheeks, warm from Mulder’s proximity, and the memory of their first kisses, feel like they’re flaming red.

“What if it wasn’t? It’s not like you to let a theory go untested. Don’t you want… proof?” He’s grinning at her, hope evident on his face.

“What’s your theory?” she asks to buy herself time. It’s not that she doesn’t want to kiss him; she just wants to kiss him when they’re both healthy, uninjured, and of sound mind.

“My theory, Agent Scully, is that your kisses have healing powers.”

“That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Just one kiss, Scully. For science.”

“For science,” she agrees and presses her lips to his. They’re so warm, feel as soft as she remembers them. Why aren’t they doing this every day, she wonders as he deepens the kiss, sneaking his tongue past her doubts and worries.


End file.
